


Pit Stop

by Aladin_Sane



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Bonding, Death Threats, Epilepsy, Medication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 03:01:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aladin_Sane/pseuds/Aladin_Sane
Summary: Baby really, really needs to stop by his apartment.





	Pit Stop

**Author's Note:**

> So the original script got released and there's so much information in there that either didn't make it into the movie or got changed. 
> 
> Like, apparently Baby's an epileptic
> 
> So I partnered that with another request from Beth and here we are.

Baby slipped into his jacket as quietly as he could. Looking at the clock above the elevator, he quickened his pace while trying to keep his feet quiet on the ground. He had to take his medication by morning or there'd be big problems during the job. 

He slid into the dirver's seat of the car and started it, praying everyone slept through the sound of the engine roaring to life. Two seconds passed, nobody in sight. Good. Baby nodded to himself and started pulling forward. 

Buddy's silhouette made him slam on the breaks. What kinda bullshit was that? He obviously knew, he should have just tapped on the window or something a little less dramatic. 

"Where ya going, Baby?" 

"Uh..." He looked at the steering wheel as if it would give him answers. "Coffee?" 

"It's 2am." Buddy was standing by the driver's side door now, leaning against the window. Baby didn't really have anything to say to explain this. "Listen to me, Baby. If this is just because you get a kick out of driving, if you don't really care about the job, you've gotta reassess your priorities. If you're gonna throw it in at the post office tomorrow, just go on your little coffee run and don't come back."

"This ain't just -"

"Where y'all going?" Bats climbed in the car, making Baby's body freeze with fear. This was out of control. He just needed to go home, get his medication and come back It shouldn't have been this complicated. 

Baby looked to Buddy frantically. Even though he didn't trust him, Buddy didn't want to give Bats any more reason to want Baby dead. 

"We're just checking to make sure everything's set in place for tomorrow." 

"Really? 'Cause it looks like he's going somewhere at two in the morning," Bats said. He looked over at Baby and raised his eyebrows. "So, where're we going?"

"C, coffee." Might as well stick to his story. 

Then Bats pulled out a gun, the muzzle of it pointed right at Baby's neck. "You're a shitty liar. So start talking or you're gonna eat lead."

Baby looked back at Buddy for help, but all he got was a waiting look. There wasn't any getting out of this. 

"I just need to stop back home. I left my ipod charger on the kitchen counter." 

Bats nodded like he understood for a minute. Then he held up a white chord. "This one, you mean?" 

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Thank you. I guess I lost it." 

"It was plugged into the wall by your bed." Baby's face went bright red, egging Bats on. "So, where the fuck are you going, Baby?" 

"I'm just going home, I'm going to be back as quick as I can, I swear." Bats cocked the gun aggressively. "It won't take long at all, I promise!" 

"Then we'll go with you. Buddy, hop on in." 

"I live really far away," Baby said as Buddy climbed into the back seat. 

"We've got music, don't worry." 

Baby sighed and put the car back in drive. Bats flipped through his ipod, criticizing every song he came across. It was annoying, but Baby didn't respond. The drive was long and uncomfortable, Bats' gun still pointed at his chest. It made him sweat. 

"Maybe you should just let him drive," Buddy said from the back seat. 

"He'll be fine. He's driven in worse conditions." Bats prodded Baby's ribs with the barrel of the gun, making him swerve just slightly. 

They pulled up to the crumbling apartment building and Baby lead the way inside. Bats and Buddy were looking around in shock as they followed him up the stairs. Every step made a frustratingly loud creak that Baby seemed used to. Bats looked at Buddy and jerked his head towards Baby. 

"So, uh, you live here?" Buddy asked. 

"Yes." 

Buddy watched him kick an empty vodka bottle out of the middle of the hallway. "Do you stay somewhere else most of the time?"

"No."

Buddy and Bats shared a confused look. "Don't you get the same cut as everyone else?" Bats asked. 

Baby looked a little uncomfortable as he fiddled with the lock on his door. "Um. Yes." 

He took them inside and pulled two beers out from the very back of the fridge. They were old and untouched, but he was desperate to keep them busy. They settled at the counter, watched him poke around in cupboards and drawers.

"What are you looking for?" Buddy asked. 

Baby just shrugged and looked towards the hallway. "Stay here." He tapped the counter twice with his knuckles before ducking into a room. 

"He's hiding something," Bats said. He was scowling at the door, tapping the end of his gun against his ankle. 

"Yeah, no shit. Everyone is in this business. Put yourself in his shoes. Would you let us into your house?" 

"Not in a million years." 

"So cut him some slack." Buddy set his pistol on the table, a silent threat to Bats. Leave the kid alone. 

There was a loud thump from the bedroom that caught both of their attention. 

"What's he doing in there?" Bats stood as he spoke, walking towards the door. The thumping continued, more muffled this time but now it was nearly constant. Bats pushed open the door. 

The sight of Baby writhing on the floor of his bedroom was alarming. His body was bumping against the floor, his face turned towards the ceiling. He was clearly still awake, the way his eyes focused on Bats standing in the door way. 

"What the fuck?" Bats was too shocked to move, just standing in the doorway. 

"He's having a seizure," Buddy said, shoving Bats out of the way and kneeling on the floor next to him. He placed his hands under Baby's head and turned him onto his side to stop him from choking.

Being pushed jerked Bats into action. He started moving Baby's furniture out of the way, dragging his bed closer to the wall so he had more space. When he was sure the area was safe, he started the timer on his phone. 

"What do we do?" Buddy asked.

"How the fuck should I know?" Bats was sitting on the other side of Baby on the floor, watching the kid's legs as they shook. "How long do these things last?" 

"I think if it lasts more than 5 minutes we call an ambulance."

"Is he still awake?"

Buddy passed his hands over Baby's eyes, noticed that they didn't track the movement anymore. "I don't think so." 

After a few seconds of quiet, Bats unbuttoned the top three buttons of Baby's shirt. When Buddy looked at him confusedly he just shrugged. "He might choke or something."

They just sat there, looking around Baby's bedroom while he convulsed on the floor between them. Buddy had his hands below his head, stopping it from hitting the hardwood floor. Bats had his eyes trained on all the recording equipment. It was all old, probably second-hand, but well taken care of. 

The room was undeniably Baby's, probably something they could've guessed even if he hadn't been there. So many posters that they overlapped each other, a made bed that looked like it hadn't been slept in for awhile, and more ipods than Bats could count decorated the small room. Each ipod looked like it belonged to a different person, as if Baby had just picked them up and started listening. 

Bats grabbed one and plugged it in to the beat up old speakers that were positioned by the window. Maybe the familiar sound would be comforting to Baby when he came back around. 

The movements slowed to a stop, leaving him limp on the ground. 

"68 seconds," Bats reported when Buddy looked up at him. "Now what?"

"Uh..." Nervously, Buddy reached his finger into Baby's mouth. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" 

"I don't want him to choke on anything!"

"Like what? Your finger?"

"No! I dunno, vomit or spit or something. Maybe he knocked a tooth loose." 

Bats watched for a second. "Check to see if he cracked any teeth." 

"I think he's good." Buddy wiped his finger on his jeans. "Do you see any injuries?"

"Looks like he hit his elbow as he went down. Other than that, he looks fine," Bats said, gesturing to the forming bruise. He rubbed his face and sighed. 

Baby rolled himself onto his back, groaning and rubbing his neck. "What happened?" He blinked bleary-eyed up at the two of them. "Where am I?" Then he tilted his head to listen to the music better. "Is this Rocky Horror Picture Show?" 

"You're in your bedroom. Do you hurt anywhere?" Buddy asked. 

That caused Baby to narrow his eyes in confusion. "Why are you here?" 

"You needed to get something from your apartment. Bats and I came with you." 

"Oh, shit, my pills. I've gotta take my medication or I'm gonna fuck up the job tomorrow." Baby tried to sit up, but Bats gently pushed him back down. 

"You just had a seizure. We're going to call a doctor," Buddy explained patiently. Taking the hint, Bats started to make the call. 

"No, no. Don't bother." Baby pushed himself up again, this time knocking off Bats' hands. "I'm epileptic, it happens." He rubbed his eyes and tried to stand, only to lose his balance. Bats barely managed to catch him before he hit the ground again. 

"I'll go get you a glass of water," Buddy offered. 

"Use the pitcher in the fridge, the tap water makes me sick," Baby said. He sounded exhausted and Bats wondered how often this kind of thing happened. 

"You live like this?" he asked, staring directly at a mouse trap on the floor. 

"Yes."

"Don't you get the same amount of money as the rest of us?"

"No." Baby shrugged noncommittally, too tired to bother trying to come up with another answer. "I owe Doc a lot of money. He gets it all." 

Baby stood up again, this time more stable and started digging around on his desk. Finally, he found an orange pill bottle and took two. 

"Are those for your epilepsy?" Bats asked. 

"No, it's to keep the migraines at bay. From the tinnitus." He held up another pill bottle. "These are for epilepsy. From Doc." Baby rubbed his eyes, trying to get the last bit of drowsiness out of his system. "One time the lights from the squad cars triggered it and somebody else had to get us out of there." 

Buddy returned with a glass of water, that Baby drank it all quickly. Bats just watched him a little worriedly. He knew that Baby wasn't as into the life as the rest of them, but he had no idea that he'd been completely forced into it. Or that Doc managed almost every aspect of his life. It was a little worrying. 

"We should go back," Baby said. He stretched his neck out and swung his keys around in his hands while walking towards the door. 

"Why don't you let me drive?" Buddy said. He reached for the keys, but Baby tossed them up into the air, catching them behind his back before Buddy could grab them. 

"I'm still your driver." He put his sunglasses on, and his mood changed. He became more stoic, the fluid movements he'd adopted while in his home replaced with stiff movements. It was like he aged 10 years. 

Bats took one look at the old beat up building and sighed. A kid that talented should've been living in a modern penthouse on the good side of town. Maybe he was just the kind of kid to be completely surrounded by crime without being any criminal.


End file.
